


not so brittle after all

by originalblue



Series: everyone's a little bit psychic [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Secret Crush, Social Anxiety, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalblue/pseuds/originalblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out, size really doesn't matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

By the time he hit third year, Azumane Asahi's list of fears and stressors was about a mile long, and unfortunately, most of them centered around school, which he was required to attend six days out of the week.

Thankfully, the previous two years had prepared him. Now he knew which hallways were most crowded and could avoid them between classes, and on the first day he'd made sure to pick a seat in the back of the room. It was in the last row, far enough back that the teacher would be unlikely to call on him very often. It also had the added benefit of making sure he wasn't blocking anyone's view of the board, something he'd worried about all through first year. His classes were manageable, and teachers this year weren't too strict; none of them made him feel like he was messing up just by existing, which was a definite plus after his terrifying math teacher in second year.

It had been a good day so far. He'd been on time, he'd had a thermos of tonkotsu ramen in his lunch, and he'd gotten an 85 on a test he'd thought he'd bombed.

Then, as he stood up to hand back a paper, one of his deepest daily fears came to pass: he bumped into someone hard enough that they stumbled and had to grab a desk for support.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't-" Asahi tried again, despite his pounding heart. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you." He bowed deeply, hoping whoever he'd bumped into wasn't too angry. He really should have been watching where he was going. "Are you okay?"

His classmate - Murakami-san? - laughed it off, dusting off his hands. "It's okay, I'm totally fine."

Relieved, Asahi straightened up after a moment and saw that Murakami was giving him a strange look. "So it's true, huh, Azumane?" Murakami said. "You really don't listen to anyone's thoughts at all?" The scrutiny in his face was an expression that Asahi had become familiar with over the years, but it still gave him a tiny pinch up under his ribs.

He swallowed. "I listen if it's, um, thought to me in particular. Otherwise, no."

Murakami raised an eyebrow, but to Asahi's relief, he didn't seem particularly interested. "That's kinda weird, man." He turned and walked away, shaking his head, and Asahi took a deep breath and let it out again. At least he hadn't been angry. It was always worse when people got mad or indignant.

It didn't matter if his classmates thought he was weird for closing off his mind. It didn't matter if they thought he was some kind of freak. He just couldn't handle all the noise and meanness in the thoughts around him, not the way others did, not ignoring them like they didn't matter. Asahi _knew_ that he couldn't handle it all, and thankfully, now he knew that this was for the best. Until his second year of middle school, just walking to class had been a nightmare, a swirling cloud of chatter and insidious barbs that pierced Asahi like a butterfly pinned to a board.

It had taken him months of fumbling practice to learn to shut it all out, but that hard-won mental silence was the only thing that made school manageable. So what if people stared at him like he'd grown a second head? At least this way, he could have some peace and quiet and no one else's thoughts bothered him. Not to mention, he'd always felt embarrassed about hearing other people's minds, like he was intruding on something deeply personal. And if there was one thing that Asahi tried to respect, it was personal space. There was just no way of knowing for sure if you'd been meant to hear someone's thoughts, not unless they'd been directed towards you. He'd rather just avoid the whole thing. If someone needed to say something to him silently, they'd have to use thought-talk, and since that usually required skin-to-skin contact, he was probably safe.

When the bell rang, he picked up his bag and headed towards the gym, dodging the excited rush of freshmen that flooded the halls. He spotted Tsukishima from a distance and raised a hand in greeting. The younger boy simply nodded in response, but Asahi felt lucky to get even that; he knew that Tsukishima afforded respect sparingly, even to his senpais. He was glad that the new members of the team already called him Asahi - it was always strange to hear people call him _'Azumane-senpai'_ and mean it.

The squeaking of footsteps was all the warning Asahi got before a hand slapped him hard on the back, making him jump.

"Asahi- _senpai_!" came a familiar voice, and Asahi looked down into Nishinoya's grinning face. "You ready for practice?" It was obvious from his tone that he'd heard Asahi's thoughts and decided to tease him a little.

Asahi smiled sheepishly in reply, very careful not to think about Nishinoya calling him senpai. Thinking about Nishinoya calling him that, with those bright eyes and that eager smirk, led nowhere useful. It had been even worse last year, when Nishinoya had called him that on a regular basis until Asahi had nearly had to beg him to stop.

Sometimes Asahi had a difficult time knowing if any of his thoughts leaked out, but around Nishinoya his control was ironclad. He was sure of that. Whatever else happened, he was always careful to snip off and seal up that section of his thoughts, because he absolutely couldn't let anyone - especially Nishinoya - hear them.

Asahi rubbed the back of his neck, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "I usually like this class, but for some reason today was just really boring." So boring, in fact, that he'd spent the whole class doodling all over the back of his worksheet, up until he'd almost knocked Murakami over. At least today's interaction had been quicker than usual.

Nishinoya nodded sagely, straightening his uniform jacket. "I definitely think that school is super boring on purpose, to get us more pumped for volleyball." He stood on his toes and leaned in close, eyes furtive, and Asahi's mouth went dry. "Asahi-san, if Murakami or anyone else gives you trouble about being so quiet, just direct them to me," he ordered, voice low. He might have been a head and a half shorter than Asahi, but had the presence of someone twice his size.

Asahi sagged; he'd hoped that Nishinoya had missed that part of his day in his thoughts. "You're not gonna back down, are you?"

"Nope!" Nishinoya replied cheerfully. "Now come on, we've got to get there before Daichi gets mad." He wrapped a hand around Asahi's upper arm and dragged him forward, ignoring his spluttered objections.

\-----

Holy _shit,_ Asahi had some muscle. Objectively, Yuu had always known that their ace was in good shape, but now that he was holding onto Asahi's arm, he could really appreciate it. Yuu was toned, but he knew he'd never get that same kind of raw force as Asahi. He was fine with that normally, but right now he was feeling some serious muscle-envy.

Okay, maybe his thoughts weren't  _that_ objective, because his crush on Asahi was approximately the size of Mount Fuji, but if he _were_ capable of thinking objectively, he'd still think that Asahi was pretty built.

And okay, he was definitely thinking about those muscles in a less than strictly kouhai-to-senpai manner, but that wasn't really his fault, was it? He was a teenager with a healthy sex drive who spent a lot of his time with the guy he liked, sometimes only partially dressed. There were a lot of furtive glances and plenty of careful maneuvering so that he didn't ever accidentally brush up against Asahi when he was shirtless and sweating-

His eyes flickered back to Asahi, who'd given up trying to escape Yuu's grip and was simply letting himself be manhandled along, unresisting. That did something to Yuu's stomach that he wasn't quite willing to think about. The one thing he knew was how incredibly thankful he was that Asahi didn't listen to anyone. Yuu would have died a hundred times over if Asahi had ever heard the things Yuu had thought about him.

He felt himself flushing and turned his thoughts decidedly towards volleyball.

\-----

Practice left Asahi massaging his right shoulder, rotating the joint with a carefully concealed wince. He'd need to ice it tonight, and then maybe put a hot towel on it. He'd knew he'd been pushing himself hard lately - not too hard, not under Ukai's watchful gaze - but hard enough that maybe he needed to take a deep breath and relax a little bit. He'd gotten a new book from the library yesterday; he could take an hour or two and start it tonight.

To his left, Yamaguchi yawned and covered his mouth, muttering a sorry towards Tsukishima's faint glare. Asahi did not envy  _that_ friendship. He was glad to have both of them on the team, but for some reason Yamaguchi acted like Tsukishima's word was law, and Tsukishima did nothing to discourage it. Asahi had enough anxiety without worrying if his best friend approved of every single one of his actions. 

"Uuuaaahhhh," Tanaka groaned on Asahi's far right, pulling on his uniform jacket as they stepped through the gate. "I want to sleep for a week," he complained. He nudged Nishinoya. "What about you? What're you doing tonight?"

Nishonoya shrugged. "Gonna drink some soda and relax. There's a drama on later that I want to watch."

As Tanaka teased Nishinoya for watching old-lady romances, Asahi wondered if he should buy a shoulder brace to wear under his clothes. It would be kind of expensive, but he still had some birthday money left over, and he was pretty sure his mom wouldn't mind getting it for him if he explained how it would help.

"Your shoulder's still hurting?" Nishinoya said, and Asahi's head snapped up. Without realizing it, he'd gotten a little ahead of the group; Tanaka was talking to Yamaguchi, explaining something about serving, and Tsukishima was staring off into space the way he did whenever something uninteresting came up. But Nishinoya had stayed next to Asahi, concern written all over his face.

Asahi swallowed. "What? Oh, yeah. Not exactly hurting, but it's stiff." If it was still aching when he got home, he'd take a pain pill or something. "I'll get a brace. I don't want it to be a problem." He needed to do his best for the team, and that meant not letting himself get injured. He couldn't let them all down like that. They'd hate him for sure if he got hurt and needed to stop playing during the tournament, god, during the finals-

Fingers brushed his wrist, and for the first time in months, he heard thought-talk. _Hey, calm down._

Asahi jerked back, staring down at Nishinoya, who just rolled his eyes and grabbed at his wrist more firmly.

 _You're overthinking again,_ Nishinoya chided silently. _You know that getting yourself worked up like this doesn't do any good for anyone. No one hates you, and no one's going to. Just go home, ice your shoulder, and if you think you still need the brace, we'll go on the weekend. Okay?_ Nishinoya's deep brown eyes were narrowed, deadly serious.  _I'll make sure you get one that fits right._

After a moment, Asahi nodded. _Okay. I'll let you know if it still hurts tomorrow._ The brush of Nishinoya's mind against his own was vivid and steady, a comforting warmth that Asahi couldn't refuse.

With a smile like the sun, Nishinoya let go of his wrist and slapped him on the back. "Great!" He turned back to Tanaka, sighing about the way that Kiyoko's hair had looked today, bemoaning her insistence that she would never date one of the team members.

Asahi looked down, careful to keep his thoughts quiet. His wrist burned where Nishinoya's skin had touched him.

\-----

The first time Yuu had realized he liked Asahi, he'd been in first year, hunched over his desk, staring blankly at the blackboard as the teacher wrote equations out of their workbooks. He'd been going over practice in his head, thinking about the way Asahi had looked when his hand connected perfectly with the ball. It had been amazing to see, probably especially so for Ryuu, who had already been half in love with Asahi's spiking power. It made sense; Ryuu saw Asahi as the perfect spiker, all strength and precision. But all the same, Yuu had felt a certain kind of secret softness, a pride, that Asahi had put in so much effort and come out so incredible.

Yuu had kept that feeling hidden down under everything else during practice and afterwards, not wanting anyone else to notice and ask him about it. He had no grounds to feel like that, especially when he and Asahi were just friends and teammates, and it wasn't like Asahi _belonged_ to him or anything. It was just that Asahi had helped Yuu with his libero training, and stayed late with him after school to clean up, and bought the first years ice cream, and taught Ryuu all the tricks that high school blockers used to psych out their opponents. It was just that Asahi waved to him whenever they met in the halls, and sincerely asked him about his day, and generally looked like he'd stepped out of some kind of huge shy nerd catalog-

Needless to say, Yuu had spent a good few minutes during practice forcing himself not to stare at the way Asahi's shoulders fit under his jersey, because that was crossing a line that Yuu hadn't even known existed until just that moment.

Asahi had _not_ been what Yuu was expecting out of his high school upperclassmen. Yuu had been expecting friendship and comradery and the fierceness that accompanied all true volleyball battles, and he'd gotten those things in spades from every single one of his teammates. It was just that - well, Asahi was _different_. Where Yuu would have given hard edges and fiery enthusiasm, Asahi was usually shy with his happiness, more contained. It wasn't unpleasant, just different.

It hadn't been until almost a month into practice that Yuu had realized exactly _how_ contained, and afterwards he'd been embarrassed that it had taken him so long to get a clue. They'd been in practice and Yuu had thought a joke loudly to Ryuu, not caring if the others heard. Some of the team laughed, but Asahi's mind stayed silent, almost like he hadn't heard anything at all. After that, all it had taken was a few quiet words from Daichi for him to understand the situation. Apparently Asahi _hadn't_ heard anything, and almost never did. On _purpose_.

That second semester of his first year, he'd finally gotten a window seat, but there was nothing enjoyable about it just then. The sky overhead was a sickly silver-green, clouds broken only by the occasional patch of sunlight. Yuu grimaced. He hated the damp. He'd have to walk home in it after practice, feeling cold and sweaty and gross, and then he'd have to go take in the laundry and hope it hadn't started raining by then.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and Yuu did a double-take, his chin slipping out of his hand as he leaned towards the window.

In the southern corner of the courtyard, not more than twenty yards away, was Asahi himself, reaching carefully up into a tree.

Yuu's first reaction was to wonder how Asahi had gotten permission to be out of class, or if maybe he was skipping and wasn't so tightly-laced after all. Then he wondered what he was doing in the courtyard, under a tree, reaching up with one of his long arms towards a branch. Was something of his stuck in the tree? Was someone bullying him? Had someone put something of his up there to inconvenience him?

He had to admit, the last one was a little far-fetched; as quiet as Asahi was, he was still taller and bigger than almost all of his classmates, and definitely stronger from all the volleyball training. There weren't many people in their school who would dare to pick on him.

So what the hell was he doing?

He watched as Asahi crouched down, picked up something small off the ground, and put it in the tree, then stepped back, hands on his hips. Even at that distance, Yuu could see that Asahi was smiling. That would have been rare enough on its own, but then Asahi dusted off his hands and walked away. As he passed in front of the window, oblivious, Yuu caught the barest brush of his thoughts and blinked. Asahi's mind was like the welcome first steam off of a bowl of hot udon when it was raining outside, his usual nervousness smoothed away by whatever he'd just done. Yuu didn't know if he'd ever seen Asahi that happy before. He looked good like that, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes creased with a smile, shoulders relaxed.

A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he reluctantly looked back towards the tree. A crow had landed on one of the bottom branches and hopped its way inward, towards a dark mess in the joint where branch met trunk. Yuu realized belatedly that Asahi must have found a chick that had fallen out of the nest, and he'd been trying to put it back.

"Nishinoya-san," the teacher's voice warned, cutting through his thoughts, "If you can't pay attention, you can see me after class. Please sit forward at your desk."

Ignoring the faint murmurs of laughter in the thoughts around him, Yuu swallowed, hard, and turned back to class, determinedly staring at nothing as the afternoon droned on. There was no way he was going to think about what he'd just been thinking about, because he was in _class_ and the teacher was _right there_ and besides, Asahi was his teammate and his senpai and he couldn't bear the thought of being one of those boys with an embarrassing crush on their upperclassmen that everyone knew about. He absolutely couldn't let anyone know.

And Asahi wouldn't know, Yuu realized with a jolt. Asahi wouldn't know as long as Yuu didn't tell him.

For the first time and certainly not for the last, Yuu was inordinately grateful that Asahi was the way he was.

 


	2. Chapter 2

A week passed after their conversation, and Asahi needed all seven uneventful days to even feel remotely capable of functioning like a normal person around Nishinoya. Every time Nishinoya slapped Tanaka on the back, or ruffled Hinata's hair, Asahi was reminded of how Nishinoya's firm, calloused fingers had felt against his wrist. It didn't help that Nishinoya seemed to be even more shirtless than usual, lifting the hem of his practice t-shirt to wipe his forehead or tearing it off when he got caught up in Tanaka's enthusiasm. Asahi stared pointedly at his shoes or at the net or at Kageyama and Hinata's squabbling, anything that wasn't sun-streaked skin and lightly freckled hips.

 _Don't look, don't look,_ Asahi chanted silently, hiding the words under floaty thoughts and school-related feelings. _You just need to get through practice, and then you can go home and put your head under a pillow and be alone for ten hours._

But nothing was ever that simple, and when Nishinoya approached him about helping out during the first years' extra receive training, eyes wide and expectant, Asahi was physically incapable of disappointing him. Thankfully, Daichi had let them use the gym, and because Asahi was the only third year involved, it became his responsibility to lock up at the end of every day.

He'd expected it to be more tense for some reason, but it had been comfortingly normal.

\---

Ryuu's very sharp elbow jamming into Yuu's side knocked him out of his reverie.

 _You're staring again, dude,_ Ryuu hissed at him silently, and Yuu immediately turned away from Asahi's very pretty shoulder blades and began to put his uniform back on. His arms felt stiff and jerky, but he _could not fucking help_ it when Asahi was just standing there all tall and muscle-y and stuff _without a fucking shirt on_. Yuu's brain could not be expected to just continue work as usual when Asahi was less than five feet away and his hair was wet from the showers and it was _dripping_ down his neck-

He heard a strangled noise from his left, and this time it was Ryuu's hand that smacked him across the back of the head.  _DUDE. Not cool, dude._

 _Stop listening, then,_ he retorted, sticking out his tongue.

Even in his thoughts, Ryuu managed to grumble. _I wish I could, you fuckin' perv. It's_ Asahi, _for Christ's sake._

Rolling his eyes, Yuu nudged his locker shut. _Hypocrite,_ he murmured to Ryuu as they left the locker room.  _As if I don't have to listen to you thinking about Kiyoko-san's legs and Yamamoto-san's fucking_ wrists _, of all things-_

Ryuu choked and gripped Yuu's shoulder with hard fingers.  _I DON'T- IT'S NOT LIKE THAT._ His face was a shade of red that Yuu usually associated with summer tomatoes. _It's not like that,_ he repeated, more quietly, looking down and away. _We're just- we're friends._

Yuu studied him carefully. "You know I don't care, right?" he said aloud, swatting Ryuu's fingers away. "It doesn't matter to me who you're into."  _And you think about the insides of his thighs a_ _n awful lot for 'just friends,'_ he added silently. He was so glad it was Friday. He didn't think he could deal with this shit if he couldn't relax when he got home.

Ryuu didn't look up, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and scuffing his shoes along the asphalt. "Augh," he groaned, clapping his palms over his ears and shaking his head. "He's just- we're just friends _plus_ some," he said helplessly. "I don't see him that often. It's not like, romantic or anything. We're not dating. It's not like that." _And it's not like I could tell him even if I did want to date him,_ he thought defensively.  _It would make things weird._ With that admission, a deep impression of fear tinged with guilt shot through Ryuu's mind, because he  _did not_ want to fuck this up, and he knew that if he said anything to Yamamoto, it would change their dynamic. He couldn't fuck this up the way he'd fucked up other friendships with inconvenient feelings.

"Hmm." Yuu laced his fingers behind his head and looked up. "That sounds really shitty, dude." Yuu didn't have a lot of experience having crushes on friends (outside of Asahi, of course), but from what he could tell it sounded like a really raw deal. Especially for Ryuu, where apparently his crush was only cool with a physical relationship.

Ryuu sighed. "Yeah." He cracked a smile. "Look at the two of us. Both into guys we can't date?"

Hearing it said like that made Yuu's heart hurt a little, but he returned the grin. "Wanna get some juice? On me?"

Whooping, Ryuu punched the air and they laughed all the way down to the corner store.

\-----

Ten days after Nishinoya had accidentally and unknowingly broken Asahi's willpower in half, Nishinoya ushered the last stragglers out of the locker room and watched Asahi carefully throwing the deadbolt on the doors.

"Thanks a lot, Asahi-san," he said brightly, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've been a real life saver this past week. Think you could come in a bit next week too? I mean, if you're too busy, you don't have to-"

"It's fine," Asahi blurted, immediately cursing himself for agreeing so easily. But Nishinoya needed his help, and the first years could really use some more intensive training, and Asahi wanted to support the team in any way he could. It had nothing to do with the way Nishinoya's face had gone soft and proud when he was watching the first years. It wasn't like Asahi was willing to sacrifice time and sweat to see Nishinoya's face like that again. Stuffing the key into his wallet, Asahi picked up his bag and turned. "Just let me know when you want me to stay."

"Whenever you want!" Nishinoya said loudly. He flushed and added, more quietly, "I mean, Tuesdays would be good, and Wednesdays, if you've got the time?"

He sounded so hesitant that Asahi instinctively reached out to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He removed it just as quickly, but the heat of Nishinoya's sweater stayed in his palm. "Sounds good," he said, giving a small smile as they turned. He flexed his fingers in what he hoped was an inconspicuous way.

The first years had gone already, Kageyama and Hinata sprinting towards the bike racks in one of their endless meaningless races. Sometimes Asahi wondered if they didn't keep competing just to have an excuse to talk to each other and hang out outside of volleyball. Having walked at a more reasonable pace, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were at the gate, talking with Yachi for a moment before heading in different directions.

Nishinoya sighed, shading his eyes against the setting sun as he watched them leave. "It's so weird, you know? I feel like I was just one of them."

 _You_ were _just one of them,_ he thought, remembering Nishinoya on that first day, all determination and a loud voice, but said "I know what you mean."

At the waspish glare Nishinoya sent him, Asahi knew that he'd been thinking a little loudly. "I'm not a kid, Asahi-san," Nishinoya grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Asahi struggled to clarify. "I know! That's not what I meant." He tucked a stray piece of hair behind one ear. "I just- We _were_ young.  _Are_ young. I think we forget to enjoy it, sometimes."

He felt Nishinoya slowly relaxing beside him, and heard him snort. "Maybe _you_ don't enjoy it, but I know for a fact that Ryuu's gonna be one of those old grandpas who tells his grandkids about his glory days where he battled it out on a volleyball court." He reached one hand over and brushed his thumb over Asahi's knuckles, sharing a mental image of wizened old Takana in a yukata, sitting on a porch and cackling, sake in one hand and a fan in the other.

Asahi laughed, his mind temporary overloaded at the casual touch. He was suddenly hyperaware that Nishinoya could hear him, but he couldn't hear Nishinoya, couldn't tell what he was thinking without physical contact, and for the first time in three years, he wished he hadn't shut everyone out.

Nishinoya was still grinning, but he'd obviously gotten the tone of Asahi's thoughts. "Hey, Asahi-san."

"Hmm?" Asahi could feel his heart drumming in his chest the way it always did when Nishinoya said his name. They were at the gate, and Asahi had to use one hand to block the suddenly vicious sunlight that seemed determined to blind him.

Nishinoya's face was relaxed, unassuming, as he said, "You should do more thought-talk. I mean, you should practice and stuff."

Asahi managed not to swallow his tongue. "Why?"

Nishinoya shrugged. "I know you get freaked out about privacy and stuff, but it might help you deal with the rest of it better. You've got to learn sometime, right?"

Studying the dirt between his shoes, Asahi rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "I don't know. I just- I didn't handle it well in middle school, and I don't want to do that again." He screwed his eyes shut. He'd hated the feeling of everyone looking at him, judging him, knowing everything he thought about almost before he did. The two years before he'd learned to block it all out had been the most embarrassing and stressful years of his life, made all the worse because he knew _exactly_ what everyone else thought of him.

A hand touched his shoulder. "Hey, now. It's not like that anymore," Nishinoya murmured. "I know your classmates in middle school were assholes, but it's different here, I promise.  _Everyone_ was mean in middle school. But that was years ago, Asahi-san. Mostly, people have grown up." He gave a lopsided smile. "Plus, it's nice hearing your voice every once in a while." He tapped his fingers to his temple. "I mean, it's always nice to hear you, but like, when it's thought-talk, it's way clearer."

Asahi felt his cheeks heating up and pointedly kept his mind quiet. When Nishinoya said things like that, it was easy to imagine that he- that there was something there, even though there wasn't. Asahi refused to let himself hope for something like that, because Nishinoya was so obviously  _not_ interested in guys. Not to mention, he fawned over Shimizu-san as much as Tanaka did - one of the two reasons Nishinoya had even decided to go to Karasuno was because he liked the girls' uniforms. There was just no way. Asahi knew that some people were interested in boys and girls or some combination thereof, but he couldn't let himself have that kind of optimism, that Nishinoya just _happened_ to be into guys.

Then Nishinoya reached over and grabbed his hand. _This is alright, right?_ Nishinoya's inner voice was calm, soothing, like a cool palm against a feverish forehead. Nishinoya's hand in real life was warm, warm and maybe a little sweaty, and not really the sort of thing you were supposed to fantasize about, and Asahi definitely didn't, he _didn't,_ he didn't look or think about it at _all_ -

Asahi blushed red to the tips of his ears, but didn't pull away. _Yeah. I mean, yes._ If there was one thing Asahi was grateful for, it was the way thought-talk was more precise than simply listening. When they were talking like this, nothing would get to Nishinoya unless Asahi wanted to show it to him.

Nishinoya raised an eyebrow. _You really do need to practice a bit. What are you going to do if one of us wants to tell you something during a game and you're too nervous to just listen? What if you let something slip to the other team?_

 _I've never had a problem with it before,_ Asahi answered honestly, because while he was on the court he took pains to guard his thoughts and to listen for the telltale brush of his teammates' minds against his own. _Daichi's never had a problem with me being this way, and neither did our old captain. It doesn't affect us during games._

 _Listen, I'm not saying I have a problem with it,_ Nishinoya thought at him, shrugging. _I think it's perfectly fine to be closed off if that's how you're most comfortable. But I also think that you should know how to listen without being overwhelmed in case of an emergency._

 _Hmm._ Asahi tugged away from Nishinoya's grip, trying not to notice the way his hand felt suddenly cold. "I'll think about it," he said at last. "I just... it's been a while since I've had someone in my head like that."

"That's why you've got to practice," Nishinoya said, sounding faintly annoyed. Asahi cringed a little from the implied reprimand, and Nishinoya's voice softened. "I just think it would be easier for you if you could relax a little. I don't think I've ever seen you relax."

"I'm plenty relaxed," he protested weakly. "I just-" He gestured emphatically, but couldn't express it. Looking at Nishinoya's expectant face, he got an idea. He leaned over and touched his palm to the side of Nishinoya's neck, telling himself it was because his neck was closer than his hands.

 _This,_ he thought, a little helplessly, and opened up the feeling to Nishinoya. It was just a taste of the anxiety and worry that had followed him like a shadow throughout middle school, the lung-crushing fear of what everyone around him was thinking; it was also the comfort he took in the quiet of his mind, the tiny bubble of peace amidst the petulance of everyone around him.

He moved his hand after a moment, a little scared to see Nishinoya's face, but he'd wanted to do it. It was easier to talk with Nishinoya this way, because he could say  _exactly_ what he meant, and only what he meant.

Nishinoya's face flickered through a series of expressions, ranging from shock to anger and frustration that faded into tight lips and hard eyes. "Those _bastards_ ," he said, voice low, and looked up at Asahi. "You went to school with absolute dickheads, you know that, right?" he said fiercely, reaching over and gripping at Asahi's sleeve. "It's not you. They were ten times worse than the kids I went to school with. That was _awful._ " He shuddered a little and swallowed. "Do you know where they go to school?" His hand on Asahi's arm was shaking, his knuckles strained white against his skin. "I will go get Ryuu and we will go beat the crap out of them _right the fuck now_."

Asahi shook his head; he didn't want this, didn't want Nishinoya to be a part of all that fear in his head. "Please, don't. It's not- it's not their fault. I was the weird one, for not listening, for being so shy. I should have worked harder." He looked away. He shouldn't have shown Nishinoya that. It wasn't like there was anything he could do, anyways. It had been years.

"Asahi-san," Nishinoya said, voice slightly calmer. "It's _not your fault._  If you don't believe me, I'll show you what it's like now, alright?" He tugged on Asahi's collar until Asahi turned to look at him. Nishinoya seemed determined to do this, despite what Asahi had said, and Asahi knew him well enough to know that there was no point trying to dissuade him. He sighed and leaned down, holding out his hand, but to his surprise Nishinoya reached up and placed his palm on Asahi's cheek, thumb almost touching Asahi's suddenly very dry mouth.

Thankfully, Asahi had no time to think about that anymore, because Nishinoya's voice and the voices of dozens of others were in his head, just flashes of corridors and classrooms and Tanaka - he was Ryuu in Nishinoya's mind, cheerful, loud-mouthed, dependable Ryuu, whose friendship Nishinoya cherished - laughing, and people talking in one boisterous mess of energy. There were a few negative notes here and there, touches of jealousy or anger or sadness, but for the most part it was a buzz of happiness and normalcy that made Nishinoya feel like he was home whenever he walked through Karasuno's front gate. And the team - the team was like a deeper extension of that, friendship and trust and a web of thoughts and feelings that wrapped Nishinoya tightly whenever he stepped into the gym with them. Daichi and Suga and Ukai were immovable and warm, supporting the others as they worked, their minds whispering comments and corrections, explaining the feelings of jumping, blocking, spiking. The first years were a little more talkative than the rest, their control unstable, but all of them, even Tsukishima and Kageyama, let themselves blend into the team's hum when they played.

Nishinoya's voice threaded through the memories. _That's what it's like when you let people in._

Asahi stayed stock-still, letting everything wash over him. Was that what everyone else felt? Was that what it was like all the time? It had been loud, so loud, and to be honest Asahi hadn't fully realized how many students went to their school before this, but it was so much clearer when their minds were chattering around him. He'd still been a little anxious, feeling like he was drowning in the sheer number of thoughts swirling like shoals of fish, but there was none of the dread and cruelty that had pervaded every day of middle school. Was this why people thought he was strange for shutting people out? The sound of everyone's minds together for a brief moment had been incredibly comforting; he couldn't imagine hearing it every day. They thought he didn't want to be a part of that?

When Nishinoya pulled back a moment later, Asahi realized his eyes were wet, and reached up to wipe away the tears. "Sorry," he said immediately. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Nishinoya said, his voice a little rough, and when Asahi opened his eyes, Nishinoya was looking away and holding out a handkerchief.

"Thanks," Asahi muttered dumbly, wondering what he'd done in a previous life to deserve having Nishinoya offer him a handkerchief that smelled like him and had his name written in one corner. It had either been something wonderful or something terrible. He handed it back after a moment, and watched Nishinoya tuck it into his pants pocket.

The sun had almost set by the time they finally started walking again, soft golden and pink light staining the buildings and trees.

"Come on," Nishinoya said, nudging him with one sharp elbow. "Let's go get some anpan, alright?"

Asahi nodded and followed him down the street, relaxing bit by bit.

\-----

It wasn't technically a  _secret_. They were just two guys hanging out. Two friends who thought-talked with each other a lot. They were teammates, so they needed to communicate well, right? Besides, it had only been two weeks. It wasn't like they were making out. They were just touching hands sometimes, and sitting closer, and thought-talking more. There was nothing about it that they needed to hide.

Despite everything he told himself, Yuu still checked to see if anyone was looking before sliding a hand over the back of Asahi's neck. _How's your shoulder feeling? Does the brace itch or anything?_ Asahi was sitting on a courtside bench, elbows leaning on his knees, low enough that Yuu could comfortably rest his fingers just above his collar.

Asahi leaned back, smiling.  _The brace is fine. My shoulder's feeling a lot better; thanks for helping me pick it out._

God, Asahi was pretty when he smiled. Yuu tried not to grin back and failed, once again immensely glad that Asahi couldn't hear his normal thoughts.  _It's good that we got it early in the year, so your shoulder can rest before all the really intense stuff starts._

 _Yeah._ Asahi laced his fingers together and stretched his arms over his head, demonstrating how much the brace had helped relieve tension in the muscle. The movement made Asahi's shirt ride up, and Yuu's eyes automatically slipped down to the curve of Asahi's hip. He swallowed, jerking his gaze upwards. Asahi's eyebrows were crinkled, confused, as he looked at Yuu.

"Nishinoya! Asahi!" Daichi called, startling them both. Yuu tore his hand away from Asahi's collar, plastering innocent volleyball thoughts over the other stuff.

Their captain was in a good mood today, although he seemed surprised to see the two of them together. "Are you two thought-talking?" he asked, looking to Asahi. "I didn't realize you liked doing that." His mind didn't seem upset, just a little startled, and maybe a touch apprehensive. His thoughts were on the fact that in the two years he'd known Asahi, he'd  _never_ seen him willingly thought-talk with someone for more than a few seconds at a time.

Asahi flushed, looking down, and Yuu tried to sneak a discreet peek at the red staining his cheeks. "I don't mind. And Nishinoya doesn't scare me like some of the others do." Asahi tucked his hair back into its band. "He's been helping me practice getting used to it."

If Daichi's eyebrows rose any further, they'd be in his hair. "Oh?" He turned to Yuu, who stood straighter and propped his hands on his hips. "You've been helping him?"

Yuu nodded fervently. "I thought it would be good if he could talk more. With the team, I mean." _It's good for Karasuno,_ he thought loudly. _We need our ace to be in top form._ He boosted the words with his usual confidence, the kind he always used when he talked about supporting the team, but he wasn't sure Daichi bought it. Of course, he cared about the team, and making sure Asahi was fighting-fit _was_ important for their strategies, but underneath it all there was definitely some selfishness at play in how much time he spent touching Asahi.

"Hmm." Daichi tapped one foot, looking between them for a long minute. When he finally spoke, he had his captain voice on, the one that made everyone immediately stop squabbling and listen. "That actually sounds like a good idea. You two should set aside some time to practice - I think three times a week should be enough; that way we can start getting you used to the rest of us, Asahi." He leaned over and clapped the petrified third year on the shoulder. "You'll see. We're not all so bad."

Yuu wondered if Daichi knew how shitty Asahi's middle school had been.

Daichi caught his eye and nodded slightly, face hard.

Huh. Well then. Yuu also wondered if Daichi had ever had that blinding urge to go beat the shit out of whoever had broken Asahi's confidence so thoroughly.

The terrifying smile Daichi sent his way was accompanied by memories of Daichi threatening to fight people who bullied Asahi all throughout first year. Yuu almost snorted at the mental image of tiny Daichi, who'd been shorter than Suga, but the tone of the memory was clearly serious. Apparently Yuu wasn't the only one who was still pissed off at the way their ace had been treated.

Asahi watched their silent exchange with vague confusion and resignation, waiting for one of them to explain.

Finally, Daichi turned back to him and nodded. "It's settled, then. You two are gonna practice until you get the hang of it, Asahi. Think of it as extra volleyball practice." They both groaned a little, but Daichi rolled his eyes at them. "You can play while you practice, for all I care, just so long as you _are_ practicing." He tapped Asahi on the forehead teasingly and nodded to Nishinoya, returning to spiking practice with the other team members.

Great. Now they had a set amount of practice to do each week? So far they'd been thought-talking a  _lot_ more than three times a week, so the actual conversations wouldn't be a problem. Finding the time to actually practice, on the other hand... But they had to do this, otherwise Yuu was sure that Daichi would see it in their thoughts and use his secret evil captain powers to reach down their throats and pull out their souls. Then he'd make their  _souls_ practice.

After a moment, Yuu turned to Asahi, "So, I'll text you when I have time to meet up? We should probably do one of those practices on the weekend, between volleyball stuff." He was already making a mental note to tell his mom he couldn't go to her ladies-only knitting circle thing because of this new training. It technically counted as volleyball, right? Daichi had said so. The volleyball team was the only thing his mother wouldn't interfere with, so this excuse would be _perfect_. He could change the time and day and location to suit his needs, and he'd never have to sit through three hours of Miyuki-obasan explaining how to set a perfect stitch again.

Asahi shrugged. "My phone's in my locker, but I'll meet you after practice? Then we can exchange numbers."

Yuu felt his cheeks warm. "Oh, right." His phone was also in his locker, because they were at _practice,_ a fact which had somehow managed to slip his mind. He'd just have to wait until after practice to fulfill his year and a half-long dream of _actually getting_ Asahi's cell phone number.

 _And_ he now had a reason to text him, _and_ a reason to meet with him outside of school.

This was either going to be the best thing that had ever happened to Yuu or the worst thing.


End file.
